


Paracelsus, and Other Gauntly Matters

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Explicit Language, Incest, M/M, Sexual Content, Slash sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2018-09-30 08:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10158314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: AU. WIP. Eventual TR/HP Slash. So this dark stranger was his cousin. He was the Heir of Gaunt, and that ring was his; Hadrian Gaunt wouldn't let this new Slytherin bastard take those from him. Unfortunately for Hadrian, Professor Riddle would prove to be much more troubling then a threat to his title; especially once Hadrian arrives at his new school.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

**Paracelsus, and Other Gauntly Matters**

I changed, and will probably continue to change, many things in the Tom Riddle era. Tom doesn't visit Morfin in the summer of 1943; he does in 1952, at age 25. He's a Professor at Hogwarts, and will most likely use a different method to rise to power. I'm going to try and make this a longer, plot important story. Also this will be cousin incest.

 

*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*

 

Prologue 

 

A green eyed boy with jet black hair sat in his small cot, in a small and dark space. The boy idly flicked a lingering spider from his arm. The air was dust ridden and muggy. He didn’t live in the most charming of places. 

 

The boy let his eyes slowly wander to the dim light at the edge of the loft. Down below he could hear Morfin's clumsy shuffling. The young wizard untangled thin limbs and stood, casually brushing a few cobwebs from his tattered robes. 

 

Hadrian Gaunt made his way across groaning floorboards to the loft's ladder. 

 

He stopped, surprised, at the sound of knocking at the door. 

 

_'A visitor? How odd.'_

 

To say Morfin and Hadrian rarely had visitors would an understatement. His father and he were quite isolated in their little shack. They never got out. Well Hadrian supposed he did, but no one would know to look for him here.

 

The last time they had a visitor was many years ago. An Auror had questioned Morfin on a muggle attack, due to how close the attack had been to Little Hangleton, and his father's past record. His father had not been arrested. Did that mean he was innocent? Probably not…

 

Had Morfin attacked another muggle?

 

The boy couldn’t think of any other reason another soul would be at their front door. The muggles wouldn't dare. All the town of Little Hangleton knew never to venture too close to the little shack at the edge of the woods. The place where there was a monstrous old man and his beautiful child dwelled, whom spoke in tongues and practiced devilry. 

 

_"Who'd that be? Intrudin' on us."_ Morfin hissed grumpily from below. Cursing, Morfin made his way to the door, banging into the old worn furniture as he went. Hadrian ducked down into the shadows, and peeked over the ledge to get a good look at the door.

 

As the door opened dark magic flooded the small shack.

 

Hadrian's interest rose; he leaned forward a bit more. The figure wore a hooded cloak; leaving nothing visible.

 

"What do you want?" Morfin asked rather rudely. Unease crept through the boy. Could Morfin not feel the amount of dark power this stranger held? At the very least Morfin could be polite; at least until he knew the stranger's intentions.

 

"You are Marvolo Gaunt?" The stranger asked smoothly, appearing unconcerned at Morfin's rudeness.

 

"No. That’s my father. What you be wanting with 'im?" Morfin asked gruffly, sounding a tad confused.

 

Why would someone be looking for Grandfather? The boy had heard numerous stories of Marvolo Gaunt from Morfin. Hadrian would have to say Grandfather was most likely just as isolated, unpleasant, and unstable as his Father was. Didn’t seem the type to have contacts or friends. Not to mention, Marvolo passed away a number of years ago. 

 

The figure stole through the doorway, uninvited. Hadrian watched as two pale, long fingered hands rose to the hood and unveiled the stranger's face. 

 

Bright green eyes took in the handsome face with fascination. Tidy black hair, a strong jaw, slightly hollowed cheeks, aristocratic nose, and….red eyes? Red eyes with cat-like pupils. Oh, this man was absolutely tainted by the Dark Arts. The young boy was sure this wizard was actively practicing the blackest of the Dark Arts; much more immersed within them then Morfin could ever hope to be. 

 

Crimson eyes roamed around their run down little shack. Disgust and disappointment was plainly seen upon those handsome features. As the man looked back to Morfin, his lips curled into a sneer. 

 

It made Hadrian's hackles rise. Sure Morfin was completely hideous. His poor bow-eyed, hunched-back, rotted-toothed, filthy father. But it wasn’t Morfin's fault. His father was the victim of repeated inbreeding. Raised in poverty by the similar Marvolo, Morfin didn’t know any other way to live. Hadrian was thankful he got fresh blood and good looks from his Mother.

 

Morfin's reaction to seeing the stranger's face was one of anger. One dirt caked hand raised his wand. "Muggle Filth," He screamed. Could Morfin not feel the man's magic? Not see those very red eyes? Apparently not, for Morfin continued to rant, "Come to this house-" 

 

"I am no _Muggle_ ," the stranger interrupted icily. The angry red gaze did not waver from Morfin.

 

His father's face calmed, small eyes examined the man curiously. "I thought you was that Muggle, you look mighty like that Muggle." 

 

Come to think of it, Hadrian did think this man looked familiar.

 

The man's eyebrows arched slightly, as he asked," What Muggle?"

 

"That Muggle what my sister took a fancy to, that Muggle what lives in the big house over that way, you look right like him. Riddle. But he's older now, in 'e? He's older'n you, now I think on it…he come back, see."

 

The dark wizard across from Morfin had a strange look in his eyes. The dark brows were furrowed; even the dark magic was angry. Their little shack was starting to feel cold to Hadrian. 

 

"Riddle came back?" the man practically hissed out.

 

The green eyed boy wondered why that got a reaction out of the dark man. Why was he here in the first place, looking for Marvolo?

 

_"Ar, he left her, and serves her right, marrying filth,"_ Morfin furiously continued slipping into parseltongue. _"Robbed us, mind, before she ran off! Where's the locket, eh, where's Slytherin's Locket? Dishonored us, she did, that little slut!"_ Getting that off his chest, his father calmed down. The boy noticed the red eyed man didn’t have any reaction to parseltongue. 

 

Hadrian had a good idea of who this man could be. The man looked almost exactly like a younger, Muggle Tom Riddle. And he was a wizard. His Aunt Merope had ran off and married Tom Riddle. Oh, Could it be?

 

"And who're you, coming here and asking question's about all that? It's over, innit…It's over…"

 

His poor, stupid father. 

 

So this dark stranger was his cousin. Hadrian looked over his cousin with renewed interest. The man was staring at the Peverell ring on his father's finger; a greedy and hungry look on that pale face. Anger took hold of Hadrian. 

That ring was **his**! The locket was meant for Merope's offspring. What else would his cousin try to steal from Hadrian? Hadrian was going to be the Heir of Gaunt, and eventually Slytherin; this new Slytherin bastard would not take that from him. And he would let the bastard know it.

 

Tearing his gaze away from the ring, the man replied to Morfin, "Nobody important. I am sorry to have taken your time." With that the man strode uncaringly past a confused Morfin.

 

Hadrian acted before he could reach the door. The boy slid down the ladder, and hissed loudly, _" So you're Aunt Merope's bastard?"_

 

The man froze before slowly turning towards Hadrian. Crimson eyes locked with his green eyes. The boy felt breathless. Being at the other end of the man's searching, cutting gaze was overwhelming. Hadrian scowled at his reaction. The boy gathered as much confidence and grace he could, and walked to his father's side. 

 

"Sister's bastard? This is my sister's bastard? That Muggle's son?" Morfin asked unbelievingly.

 

_"Who are you?"_ The man hissed back, eyes never wavering from his own. 

 

_"Tell me your name, and I will tell you mine,"_ as Hadrian spoke his hand shot out to grip his father's hand, possessively covering the ring. The boy sent a challenging glare to the tall man. His father gave him a surprised and uncomprehending look. 

 

Crimson eyes lit with amusement as they slid to his hand. A wide smirk curled on that perfect face, and dark magic pushed and prodded at his own. 

 

_"Tom Marvolo Riddle. And your own?"_

 

Riddle's magic was playing odd games with his senses, the boy needed a clear mind. Hadrian irritably gathered his own magic and forcibly pushed the offending magic away. Riddle expression took on one of surprised delight. Red eyes were oddly bright as they looked Hadrian up and down.

 

_"Hadrian Paracelsus Gaunt."_

 

Riddle's eyes snapped back to his own. Hadrian barely noticed Morfin ranting on Merope dirtying and shaming the family, too trapped within in challenging red.

 

Riddle didn't seem willing to suffer through Morfin, and pulled his wand out, aiming it at Morfin; his sight still trained on Hadrian. 

 

No, no one would raise their wand to **his** father. Lightening quick Hadrian had his wand pointed steadily Riddle. 

 

_"Don’t fret, Hadrian, I merely wish to speak to you without distraction."_

 

Hadrian chanced a quick glace at his father. He looked spitting mad; gnarled, crooked hands brandished a wand. Murder was on Morfin's mind. The boy decided it would be best to deal with this situation without attempted murder on his father's part. With the immense amount of magic Riddle possessed, Morfin didn’t likely stand a chance. 

 

Eyes trained on his cousin, the boy silently stunned his father, and gently lowered him to the grime covered floor. 

 

_"He is mine. As well as the ring, cousin. Slytherin's locket belongs to you; it was Merope's to pass on to you. The Peverell ring is my father's to pass to me; it is mine. And I am to be the Gaunt heir,"_ Hadrian informed Riddle coolly. 

 

A single well shaped brow quirked. _"You think I am a threat to your title? You needn't worry. Why would I wish for the Gaunt title?"_ Riddle eyed Morfin as he spoke that. The dark wizard wore a cruel, condescending smile as the red eyes roamed around their dank filthy shack. _"What possible reason could I have to ever wish to inherit from the House of Gaunt."_ the man hissed.

 

The green eyed boy bristled. Hadrian would not acknowledge the shame clawing up inside him. He had to defend his name. _"The Gaunt name is a respectable old pureblood name. I dare say it's better then your filthy father's muggle name."_ Hadrian spat to the man.

 

Riddle's eyes narrowed and magic spiked with fury. He began to advance on Hadrian. 

 

Hadrian supposed he could have left out the filthy father muggle name part. He really did need to learn to control his temper. 

 

Riddle stopped mid step, and seemed to compose himself. "You look old enough to be enrolled in school…Which school do you attend?" Riddle asked face unreadable, and voice calm.

 

Well that was unexpected. Why would his cousin want to know that? Hadrian didn’t think it could do any harm to tell. "I don’t attend school. Morfin teaches me some magic. For the rest I teach myself."

 

A thoughtful look crossed his cousin's face. "Have you ever wished to attend Hogwarts, Hadrian? You would receive much better education, I'm sure," Riddle informed Hadrian, tone filled with arrogance. The dark wizard was staring up at Hadrian's loft. 

 

It upset the boys nerves, knowing his cousin knew where he slept.

 

"No," Hadrian lied. He had wanted to, but Riddle didn’t need to know that. "My education is just fine."

 

"Doubtful. I believe Hogwarts will be good for you," Riddle said. It sounded more like the man was talking to himself then Hadrian. 

 

How irritating this man was. Hadrian believed he was rather good at magic.

 

Riddle suddenly turned and walked gracefully to the door. "Keep your ring, child," Riddle spoke, not bothering to look at Hadrian.

 

_"Child?"_ Hadrian spat. Riddle did not look much older then himself. Mid twenties, Hadrian would guess. While Hadrian was only fourteen, he didn’t believe he was a child compared to Riddle. And he certainly did not wish to be called a child by his smug, arsehole cousin.

 

The door creaked open, cold air floated in. Before exiting, the dark wizard turned to the boy, a wide smile on his face.

 

"I would much rather have you."

 

What? Sharp disbelief struck the boy. Hadrian had thought this man was threatening before, but Riddle seemed downright sinister now. That smile appeared twisted with malice. Those intense red eyes observed him with hunger; as a predator looks at its prey. Hadrian tried to calm his nerves, suppress his fear. 

 

"I belong to myself as well," Hadrian growled.

 

A husky chuckle escaped Riddle's well shaped lips before the man left through the door; he didn’t spare Hadrian another glance.

 

Hadrian continued to stare at the open door long after his cousin had left. He couldn’t help but think his life was about to change drastically. 

 

*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*

 

**Eventually I will have time to edit out all the typos and spelling/grammar mistakes. Or get a beta.**


	2. Chapter 1

  
Author's notes: AU. WIP. Eventual TR/HP Slash. So this dark stranger was his cousin. He was the Heir of Gaunt, and that ring was his; Hadrian Gaunt wouldn't let this new Slytherin bastard take those from him. Unfortunately for Hadrian, Professor Riddle would prove to be much more troubling then a threat to his title; especially once Hadrian arrives at his new school.  


* * *

**Paracelsus, and Other Gauntly Matters**

*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*

 

Chapter 1

 

It was the morning after his cousin had paid his humble home a visit, and Hadrian was sick with worry. The boy sat at the edge of his loft, contemplating on just what was to be done.

 

Riddle had said he didn’t want his title. Hadrian didn’t know whether he believed him. Sure, the man seemed positively disgusted with the House of Gaunt. However, if Riddle had a pureblood name he would have much more opportunity then he would with just his muggle name.

 

The Gaunts used to be well known and highly respected…a hundred or two years ago. From what Hadrian had seen, most Pureblood society assumed they were extinct. No one had any idea of the Gaunt's Slytherin connection. Having the title of Slytherin…

 

Tom Riddle would surely want that. 

 

It was too bad for Riddle. His cousin most likely had no idea that title could still be claimed; treasures could still be inherited. It was unfortunate that Hadrian wasn’t entirely certain he himself would be able to claim it. It wasn’t exactly a normal last blood relation comes and claims the inheritance through a simple blood test kind of deal. But the boy did take comfort in the fact that as long as he didn’t inform Riddle of it, there was no threat to it.

 

But there was enough threat Hadrian's current position. The boy was not officially claimed as Heir. Riddle would not be able to claim the Heir position without the Gaunt Lord's approval, but he may be able to challenge Morfin for the title of Lord. Morfin, an aged, unmarried, illiterate man with no heir. In addition, that history of violence against muggles, wizards, even Ministry officials. However, the violence against muggles may actually not count against the man. Sadly, just Morin's required presence at a Lordship challenge would work against his father. It was quite possible Riddle could win. 

 

That would not do.

 

Having an official heir would protect Morfin's position. But to do that…

 

Morfin had to leave the shack. Go out in public. 

 

_'Oh dear.'_

 

This may prove difficult. 

 

Green eyes lowered and swept over to the man, who was sulking in a chair by the fire. His Father had been in a foul mood all morning. Hef had not been pleased that he was stunned by 'his sister's dirty half-blood.' Yes, Hadrian had lied. Really, anyone who had to live with the man would do the same.

 

_"Say, Morfin, isn't it time we got out for a bit?"_ the boy hissed to his Father.

 

_"Got out?"_ Morfin asked. _"Ta where?"_

 

_"I was thinking Gringotts."_

 

_"Gringotts? Have me bring my shame out and be seen?"_ His father's voice was steadily rising in anger. _"No!"_

 

_"Don’t worry. No one will know."_ The boy tried to reassure. "I've been out plenty of times. Not one person has ever had any idea; goblins certainly wouldn’t." Actually, people often first assumed he was a poor mudblood. Until they heard Gaunt. 

 

Fueling Morfin's family pride might help.

 

"And if anyone did, father, they would see that even a half-blood of our line outclasses the purest of their inferior blood." Hadrian convinced, sending Morfin his most charming smile.

 

That seemed to do it. Morfin's wretched face morphed into a lopsided smile as he stood. _"Aint that right. No ones got blood like ours. What are you wantin' with Gringotts?"_

 

_"To be claimed as your heir."_

 

Morfin's smile immediately curled into a grimace. It didn’t make him look any prettier. _"You think to be Heir? A half-blood become Heir?! Never! Dishonorable, shameful, unfit, filthy boy!"_

 

Hadrian jumped, forced to dodge what looked like a rather nasty curse. The young wizard examined where the curse had exploded with unamused exasperation. There was a good size hole in the side of his loft.

 

So his father still thought he would sire a nice pureblood son? As if Hadrian would ever let that happened. If Morfin did manage to find a willing….or unwilling….pureblood witch, the man would find he was quite sterile. Hadrian's doing, of course. Morfin was all Hadrian had, and the boy was unwilling to share him with anyone.

 

It was a strange relationship they shared. There was hate, but an odd sort of caring also existed. Morfin was mostly the source of all of Hadrian's companionship; a form of love was bound to happen. A possessive, clingy sort of love Hadrian supposed.

 

Most of the hate Hadrian had felt for his father had slowly transformed to pity over the years. He understood the man much more then when he was younger. 

 

His understanding of Morfin led him to the following conclusion: Morfin would rather have his dirty bastard as heir then his sister's as lord.

 

_"Morfin, Riddle said he's going to steal your lordship title."_

 

The man's temper exploded.

 

*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*

 

Hadrian tried in vain to hide his self satisfied smirk as he sat across from a mean looking little goblin. Morfin sullenly stood across the room.

 

With the possibility of Riddle stealing his lordship title, the boy had managed to convince his father the best way to deal with it, was to take preventive action by allowing him to be 'temporary' heir. Morfin grudgingly agreed, after a couple fits. There little home now boasted several new and rather drafty windows.

 

The Goblin addressed him. "Finger, please," it demanded, somehow managing to make please sound rude.

 

The young wizard offered a slender finger to the goblin. Hadrian watched impassively as the horrid creature pricked his finger, a good deal deeper and rougher then needed. The goblin tightly held his hand over an old and yellowed parchment. 

 

Blood dripped onto the parchment. The boy suspected it was more blood then necessary. Goblins were vicious little things. Green eyes studied the parchment. Hadrian could not notice anything different. Apparently the Goblin did.

 

"Everything seems to be in order. The title of Heir, you say?" the goblin asked, sounding like he would rather be doing anything else.

 

The boy gave a slight nod.

 

"You don’t want to claim the Gaunt Lordship?"

 

Why would the Goblin ask that? He had to know that Lord Gaunt was in this very room, waiting to give Hadrian permission for the Heir title.

 

"No. That's my Father's." Hadrian was not cruel enough to try to take that from his father. Even if he wanted to, the boy was too young to challenge an adult who already held the title.

 

A sharp, terrible grin split the goblin's ugly face. "No? If you're certain…."

 

"I am very certain," Hadrian snapped. 

 

That sharp-toothed grin stretched wider; it aggravated Hadrian. What was this goblin was playing at? 

 

"Sign here, please."

 

After Hadrian finished, the Goblin stood and said simply, "All finished."

 

"Finished? But don’t you need Morfin?" the boy asked, confused. 

 

The Goblin cackled, as if Hadrian had asked something incredibly stupid. Its beady eyes filled with malicious mirth as he observed Hadrian. 

 

The boy apprehensively studied the creature. Hadrian had the feeling he was missing something. 

 

"No; that is not necessary. Have a good day." the goblin dismissed them.

 

"Are you sure I don’t need Morfin?"

 

"Yes. He isn't needed for your Heir claim. Good day."

 

Hadrian, still befuddled, made his way out, beckoning to Morfin. They quickly exited Gringotts.

 

The Goblin watched them go, chuckling. 

 

*:*:*

 

A cool breeze slid over Hadrian as they left the Gringott entrance.

 

"Damn Goblins. I don’t like em. C'mon let's go home." 

 

Hadrian looked back at his father. A small smile turned his lips at his father's petulant mood. It often felt as though Hadrian were the parent and Morfin the child. He found he could not disagree with Morfin on Goblins, though. They were an unpleasant sort.

 

"We do still need to replenish our supplies, Morfin. It shouldn’t take-" the boy was cut off with an oomph as he collided with a solid wall of robe adorned chest.

 

Hadrian stumbled back, narrowly avoiding a fall. The boy snapped his eyes to the man he had bumped into. A tall and longhaired blonde wizard. He wore some of the richest robes Hadrian had ever seen. The boy became uncomfortably aware of his ratty, ripped garments. He cranked his neck to peer up at the face. Aristocratic features with silver eyes. All the evidence pointed to rich pureblood.

 

The blonde wizard looked Hadrian up and down. Unveiled loathing accompanied silver eyes. The man looked startled as his gaze landed on Morfin, but it quickly shifted to repulsion. The wizard held his head higher; as if he knew without a doubt, he was their superior. 

 

The green-eyed boy grew irate. His clothes were poor, yes. Nevertheless, this man was no superior of Hadrian's.

 

"Do watch where you're going. I would rather not have my robes mucked up by filthy Mudbloods," the man arrogantly drawled.

 

"Mudbloods?! We are no Mudbloods! Our blood is pure! Better then yur own." Morfin screamed.

 

Silver eyes turned to Morfin. After examining Morfin with clear distaste, the man haughtily replied, "I greatly doubt that. The Malfoy name is old and highly respected. We have the purest blood and always produce magically strong offspring. Not to mention, Malfoys are always pleasing to the eye." 

 

The man, Malfoy, seemed to hold a lot of family pride and self worth. Hadrian had heard a bit about the Malfoy's before. This man did not impress him.

 

"Never heard of you," Hadrian informed Malfoy, with a cheeky grin.

 

That seemed to ruffle the man's feathers. The handsome face contorted into a grimace  
"Of course the likes of you have never heard of the Malfoy name. It's too good for ignorant, rag wearing-"

"But I've heard of the Weasleys. Why should I waste my precious time on you? You're less known then the _Weasleys_! Step aside, we would like to leave your _common_ company," Hadrian tried to imitate the Malfoy's earlier arrogant drawl.

 

The boy found immense satisfaction in Malfoy's following reaction. A red hue covered that milky skin, brows furrowed, face pulled back into a snarl. The man angrily sputtered, "The Weasleys are nothing compared to the Malfoys! We are far better wizards then those blood traitors! You know your own sort, boy! My family can be traced back hundreds of -"

 

"Only hundreds?" Hadrian jubilantly cried. "How sad for you. My bloodline can be traced back thousands of years! Hundreds? You're practically a family of old Mud Bloods!"

 

"You tell 'im son!" Morfin encouraged. The boy's eyes slid to his father. A warm feeling pooled in Hadrian's chest at Morfin's rare approval. His father wore a large grin, displaying rotten and yellowed teeth, as he watched Hadrian with excitement. He shared a smile with Morfin, before looking back at Malfoy.

 

A wand was thrust into the boy's face. Malfoy looked livid. "I will not suffer such disrespect by a filthy little nobody dressed in rags!" the man hissed. Why was Hadrian always judged on his clothes first?

 

Hadrian decided to do something no respectable witch or wizard would ever expect. 

 

The boy pulled his leg back, and swung his foot full force into Malfoy's groin. The wizard crumpled to the ground, cursing, and clutching his crotch. Blonde hair splayed out on dirt covered stone 

 

Hadrian spared Morfin a glace. Grinning, the boy told his father, "Let's head off." As the boy turned he almost fell forward, from Morfin's heavy pats on his back. The elder wizard cackled as he started walking, spitting on Malfoy as he went. 

 

Hadrian's grin stretched wider. Following Morfin, Hadrian stepped on Malfoy' golden hair for further insult. He laughed at the man's strangled insults. 

 

A nice, warm feeling bubbled in the boy's chest as he watched his father lead the way. A rare true smile on Morfin's hideous face.

 

*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*

 

By nightfall, Hadrian stood outside Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. The boy was forced to wait for an invitation through the wards. 

 

Through the front door came the face of Pollux Black. Pale skin, dark hair, blue eyes, handsome features. The man aged well and his look was signature Black. All Blacks had pale skin; most had black hair and blue eyes. Once in awhile there was an odd blonde.

 

That sightly face wore a frown as the man spotted Hadrian. Pollux turned away, without even a greeting. The boy felt the powerful wards open up to him. Heading towards the door, Hadrian heard the man call for Alphard.

 

"Alphard, that friend of yours is here."

 

Pollux knew Hadrian's name; he just didn’t use it often. While the man didn't seem to mind Hadrian horribly much, he didn't particularly like him either. Which was too bad really. The boy admired Pollux. The man had dignity, intelligence, and power. He was even somewhat kind. As kind as a rich pureblood fanatic could be. 

 

Pollux hadn't even disowned Alphard when the boy had sent his allowance to Pollux's estranged squib brother, Marius Black. Irma Black, Alphard's mother, disagreed, quite strongly, with letting Alphard go unpunished. Pollux didn’t even fight Alphard becoming acquainted with someone as poor as Hadrian. Another thing Irma disagreed with.

 

But that could be because the man thought Hadrian was pure. The boy decided it best this particular family remain ignorant to his dirty blood.

 

As Hadrian walked through the entrance, he spotted Irma Black; moon face disdainful as she glared at the boy. The young wizard held back his own sneer. As much as he hated the woman, it wouldn’t do to fight with his only sort-of-friend's family. 

 

That, however, may not even earn him the ire of the Blacks. It was hard to like or respect Irma Black; unpleasant, a bit dim, and less then average magical power. Her husband hated her. Even her own children had a hard time respecting her. Alphard outright loathed his mother. It wasn’t hard to see she wasn’t a Black by blood. She came from the far inferior Crabbe line. 

 

Poor Pollux stuck with that. _'A perfect example,'_ Hadrian thought, _'of arranged marriages gone horribly wrong.'_

 

Hadrian spotted Alphard descending the staircase. A pleasant smile graced his features. Alphard took after his father, almost an exact younger version of Pollux. He was a couple of years older then Hadrian, though it didn’t feel like it to Hadrian. He liked Alphard much better then Cygnus, whom was Hadrian's age.

 

"Hadrian, nice to see you again." Alphard warmly greeted Hadrian. 

 

"Hello Alphard, same to you."

 

Alphard scowled at his mother, who not making any effort to hide her dislike of Hadrian.

 

"Come on, let's go somewhere more private."

 

Hadrian readily agreed. 

 

Entering Alphard's room, Hadrian made his way over to the bed. The boys sat side by side on the plush mattress.

 

"So I met a Malfoy today." Hadrian broke the silence.

 

"Oh? And what did you think?" Alphard asked a small smile playing on the corner of his lips.

 

"Disappointing. Malfoy didn’t live up to your inflated views of his family. That man was a pompous arsehole."

 

Alphard's flowing laughter brushed across the younger wizard's ears. "Oh they are all like that. They're very agreeable if they wish to be. And they are powerful wizards, Hadrian, magically and politically. Don’t go and make enemies out of them."

 

"Too late for that."

 

Alphard's eyes immediately found his. "What do you mean 'too late for that'? What did you do, Hadrian?" Alphard's voice held a rough note as he spoke.

 

"I put the man in his place. By the end of our encounter, he was at my feet; right where he belongs." Hadrian smiled, gazing unfocusedly at the wall; it was a good memory. 

 

A hand roughly gripped his own. The boy was pulled closer to the elder. Green eyes met blue eyes; far too close to his own. 

 

"Hadrian! You don’t want to mess with the Malfoys! They can, and will, make life very difficult for you." Alphard whispered. "And I can't help you there! Father wouldn’t offer you any protection. He's on good terms with the Malfoys. Friendly, even. He wouldn’t dare ruin that for you!"

 

The younger boy pulled back and angrily retorted, "Well I'm not going to smile and roll over for the arse. If he had better manners I would be more inclined to show him mine."

 

Alphard let out a long-suffering sigh. "Just be careful and try to avoid them I suppose. It's a good thing you're not interested in politics or the ministry. Because those are not options for you anymore, trust me."

 

"No loss there," Hadrian flippantly said. 

 

Alphard let out an even heavier sigh. "You should really take it more seriously," Alphard scolded lightly.

 

"Anyways, I didn’t come here to talk about the Malfoy's. Besides begging for the use of your library, I wished to ask about a visitor father and I received."

 

"Visitor? Who?" Alphard curiously asked, eyes on Hadrian.

 

"Tom Riddle. Ever heard of him?"

 

Alphard went pale. The boy's interest rose. Hadrian didn’t expect that reaction. Neither did he expect the following reaction. Reactions.

 

Alphard stared dumbfounded. "T-Tom Riddle? Did I hear you right?"

 

"Yep."

 

"Oh no," the elder boy whispered. "Forget the Malfoys. What did you do Hadrian? Why would Tom Riddle visit you?" Alphard voice rose steadily. 

 

"I didn’t do anything! I take it you do know him then?"

 

He's…a friend of my Father's," Alphard's eyes cut into Hadrian's, eyes filled to the brim with worry. "What did he want? It can't be good."

 

Hadrian decided to hold back the fact that Tom Riddle was his cousin. Just until he learnt more about him. His cousin was proving to be as dangerous as Hadrian suspected; Alphard seemed afraid of Riddle.

 

"Something about how he thought Hogwarts would be good for me. Nothing important."

 

Alphard looked visibly relieved; shoulders sagged, jaw unclenched, and blue eyes didn’t look nearly as worried. "Oh good. Just a routine school visit then. That's very relieving."

 

"I don’t know if like him much."

 

Alphard's face was suddenly very close to his own. The boy could see all the different shades of blue those eyes held. A strand of dark hair hung less then an inch away from Hadrian's face.

 

"It doesn’t matter if you don’t like him. You do not do _anything_ to upset Riddle. He's _extremely_ dangerous. Having Riddle as an enemy won't just troubling for you, Hadrian, it will be fatal." Alphard warned him in hushed and grave voice.

 

That was ominous. He may have already made an enemy out of his cousin. Intense curiosity and a feeling of dread clashed within Hadrian.

 

"So tell me more about Riddle. How does he know your father?"

 

"I don’t know much about him. Just that he's a powerful friend of father's, and he's not a nice man."

 

After that, Alphard remained strangely tight-lipped on the subject of Riddle. He wouldn’t tell Hadrian a single thing more.

 

Hadrian was sure he knew more.

 

The rest of the evening, the two boys spent in the library. Hadrian got to look up some much needed cleaning and home maintenance spells. 

 

Alphard stared at Hadrian with worry in his blue eyes for much of the night. 

 

It made Hadrian uncomfortable. Surely they weren't close enough for Alphard to be that concerned with him? Hadrian didn’t think so anyway.

 

*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*

 

Hadrian awoke the next day to scraping at the window. In an instant, Hadrian was down the ladder with his wand drawn. 

 

He needn't have worried. A large eagle was scraping at the window, carrying a letter. The boy let the owl in. As soon as he took the letter, Hadrian almost dropped it in surprise. 

 

It was sealed with the gaunt family crest. Odd. His father was sleeping in his usual spot by the fire. On the opposite side, his name was written in elegant handwriting.

 

Hadrian didn’t have a good feeling about this letter.

 

Hesitantly opening the letter Hadrian read: 

 

_Hadrian Paracelsus Gaunt_

_Heir of Gaunt,_

_I require your presence immediately. You and I have a few matters that need discussing._

_Lord of Gaunt_

 

What the-? The Lord of Gaunt was sleeping not fifteen feet away! He couldn’t have sent this letter! 

 

The green-eyed boy turned to the owl to send a reply. The owl was gone.

 

There was sharp tugging sensation at his navel. Panic coursed through him and the boy quickly tried to drop the letter.

 

It was already too late.

 

*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*


	3. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: AU. WIP. Eventual TR/HP Slash. So this dark stranger was his cousin. He was the Heir of Gaunt, and that ring was his; Hadrian Gaunt wouldn't let this new Slytherin bastard take those from him. Unfortunately for Hadrian, Professor Riddle would prove to be much more troubling then a threat to his title; especially once Hadrian arrives at his new school.  


* * *

Chapter 2

The letter was a portkey, and the boy would definitely be more cautious with future mail. 

Hadrian dazedly observed the portkey's chosen destination. The room was rather grand; richly decorated and spacious. The young wizard noticed tapestries decorated with the Gaunt family crest hanging on the walls. 

Someone was poking fun, and he knew who was responsible. Feeling incredibly dense for not figuring it out sooner, the boy's eyes angrily raked the room in search of his dear cousin. 

"Hello Hadrian," the voice was right behind Hadrian, too close for comfort.

Hadrian whipped around. Tom Riddle stood close, little over an arm's length away. It was easy for the boy to see just how self-satisfied Riddle was. The man's posture was one of victory. Amusement danced in the man's red eyes; coupled with a conceited smile. 

The boy glowered up at the towering figure. How? How did Riddle do it? Morfin hadn't gotten a challenge for his lordship. Even if he had, it would have been extremely difficult for Riddle to win now that Morfin had an heir.

"How?" Hadrian tightly asked.

Riddle's smile grew. "Due to you mindlessly claiming Heir to an nonexistent Lord, it was quite easy." 

The boy tensed. Confusion and disbelief hammered through his mind. The Gaunt Lordship had been empty? That was impossible! In his surprise, Hadrian was finding it hard to form any coherent reply. He stood gaping at the elder wizard.

Riddle looked delighted with the boy's astonishment. "Your fool father never claimed lordship. Nor did his father. The position has sat empty ever since your great grandfather passed. I was pleasantly surprised to find I could not only become Lord Gaunt, but also gain an heir with no struggle." 

Riddle took a step closer, a challenge. Like the man was trying to assert his dominance over him. The boy, with great difficulty, refused to submit and take a step back from the invasion of his personal space.

That handsome face leaned in very close to his own. "You left yourself wide open for the taking, Hadrian," the man whispered, crimson eyes crinkled with pleasure. 

Damn it all. Unnerved, Hadrian took several steps back after that little show.

His damn Father. The damn Goblin. Damned Ridde. To lose this to Riddle for something so simple! Did Morfin just think he automatically gained Lordship without claiming it? He shouldn’t be surprised. And Hadrian had known something odd was going on with the Goblin; he should have investigated. How frustrating it was; Riddle was victorious through nothing but lucky happenstance. 

_"What do you want? I had thought you had said that my title, the Gaunt titles, did not interest you."_ Hadrian hissed.

_"I don’t have much interest in the Gaunt titles. Without you as heir, I would not bother with the Lordship. There's no need to worry; you do still have your beloved Heir title."_

Was Riddle implying what Hadrian thought he was? _'Of course he was,'_ the boy bitterly thought.

_"You took the Lordship to gain power over me? It won't work. Disown me. I will not let you have any control over me through this."_ the boy's normally pleasant hiss sounded rough and choppy in his outrage. Hadrian hated the idea of being officially disowned from Gaunt, however it was far better then letting this bastard use it against him.

_"You will find that I have quite a bit of control over you now, whether you like it or not. I will not disown you anytime in the near future,"_ Riddle quietly hissed. _"And, if I wished it, I would have complete guardianship. We both know it would be so very simple to prove your current guardian unfit."_

His cousin's ridiculous speech only earned a scoff from the boy. No way in hell; Hadrian would never allow that to happen.

What could his cousin want with him? There was nothing special about Hadrian, and Riddle didn’t seem the type to just want family companionship. Hadrian keenly observed the man. He couldn’t understand.

"I don’t understand. What do you want with me?"

"Perhaps I would only like to get to know you better, _cousin_." Icy dark magic blanketed the boy; causing the small body to erupt in shivers.

Hadrian grit his teeth against the sensation and ground out, "If you only wanted to know me then you could come over for the bloody holidays. _What do you want_?" 

Rich laughter echoed in the room; Hadrian could have enjoyed its pleasing timbre in different circumstances. It only irk him now.

"For now, I want you to attend Hogwarts. I have a letter right here for you; which you will accept," the man pulled a letter from his cloak, and a long-fingered hand held it out to Hadrian. 

The boy only stared at it. The pale hand holding said letter wore a ring. The metallic symbol of Gaunt glinted mockingly at him. Hadrian drug his eyes back up to Riddle's face.  
The man was highly amused, and he seemed certain Hadrian would take the letter. That Hadrian would give in.

It was all too much. 

Hot anger burned through his blood. The ring, the tapestries, the arrogance. And he still didn’t know what Riddle could gain by forcing him to Hogwarts. The boy wanted to destroy that calm, holier-then-though atmosphere Riddle carried. 

The boy snatched the letter. With deliberate slowness Hadrian tore the letter up while looking challengingly into red eyes. It was gratifying to see Riddle's eyes narrow in displeasure. _'Not so smug now.'_

_"You are my heir. I could force you; why not make it easy for yourself?"_ Riddle's voice was a note lower, yet it was also more threatening.

The man must think him stupid. Hadrian at least knew that even as Lord, Riddle could only force him to Hogwarts if his current guardian failed to provide proper education. The boy gathered his magic to him and quickly checked for wards. No wards at all. How surprising. 

"I will not be going to Hogwarts, and I don’t know what game you're playing, but I want no part of it," Hadrian said, and gathered his courage for his next supremely stupid action.

The boy quickly hocked a loogie and spat in Tom Riddle's stupid face. It was a nasty one; right under an eye and dripping down the cheek. 

_'The ultimate fuck you,'_ Hadrian thought gleefully.

Hadrian almost laughed at the dumbfounded expression the man wore. Unfortunately his satisfaction was short-lived, and quickly replaced by fear.

Riddle hissed and the dark magic swirled rampantly. The face was contorted by a snarl, and red eyes were murderous as the man's powerful legs carried him towards the boy. 

"Now would be a good time to leave," Hadrian decided.

"You disgusting little-"

The man stopped, surprised as Hadrian apparated away. Riddle's angry snarl was the last thing the boy heard.

Within seconds Hadrian was standing outside his shack. Riddle didn’t see that coming did he? Hadrian wasn’t really even supposed to be able to apparate, and he was never more thankful for Morfin and the ability then now. It probably wouldn’t work a second time. If he was ever trapped by Riddle again, he was sure the man would think to put anti-apparation wards up.

Right, never ever be alone with his cousin again….would it be possible to avoid another situation like that? Did Hadrian just sign his own death warrant with that? Hadrian sighed, it was very likely.

The boy moved forward, over the rotting porch and through the front door. Morfin was awake.

_"Where've you been?"_

Looking at his father, Hadrian couldn't bring himself to tell Morfin that Riddle was now Lord Gaunt. No matter how irritatingly stupid he could be. That was one of the few things that could probably break his father's small heart.

_"I was just out browsing through a few book shops."_

_"Anything good?"_ Morfin turned his hunched form to fully face Hadrian.

_"Not really."_

Morfin grunted. _"Could use a good read."_

Normally Hadrian would go back out and get a book to please his father. Today the boy didn’t have the time or patience to read for Morfin. There was work to be done if he didn’t want to go to Hogwarts. 

_"I'll have a look again tomorrow, Morfin."_

Morifin's only reply was an uninterested grunt. Soon the ugly, dark eyes turned to look out the window, dismissing Hadrian.

The wizard swept across the room to an old bookcase. He blew dust from a pile of parchment and gathered bottled ink and a kinked quill. The boy approached the dining room and sat on one of two chairs. The chair groaned and creaked under his weight. And just as he was about to begin to write, the stressed chair broke.

Hadrian crashed into the ground. _"Bloody chair."_

Morfin howled with laughter, spit flying from the grotesque lips. Hadrian gave his father a dirty look from the floor. 

"Laugh it up will you?" The wizard slowly rose from the ground. Hadrian's pale hands brushed through messy black hair as he took in their shack. It wouldn’t do for the shack to remain as it was; he had a lot of work ahead of him. 

Ignoring Morfin's continued laughter, the boy sent out to fix the place up.

By late afternoon, Hadrian was finished. Their shack was barely recognizable. Being spotlessly clean really made a difference. Along with the fixed and polished furniture. The exterior was just as improved. At the very least, Riddle could no longer gain guardianship due to poor living arrangements. 

It had been exhausting work. Hadrian gazed down at his wand. It would not have been half as bad if he wasn’t fighting his wand every time he used it. It wasn’t his wand really; it used to belong to his grandfather. Examining the ugly shaft of hawthorn, Hadrian realized he disliked the wand as much as it disliked him. He longed to be able to afford a better companion; one that matched him. Oh well; one day he would.

_"Morfin, I'll be back later."_ Picking up his completed letter, the boy exited the shack. 

A dull, grey sky greeted him, and wind bit at his skin. The boy prepared to apparate. 

Hadrian was interrupted as a sudden force burled into him, causing the boy to stumble forward.

Turning around he saw what crashed into him, a snowy owl rolled past him. Bemused, the wizard continued to observe the clumsy bird. The owl hopped up and gave itself a quick shake. It held a letter in one claw. 

The bird looked at Hadrian with large yellow eyes. After a moment, it began to hop on one foot for the boy. One talon stretched out towards Hadrian, clutching a letter. Hadrian thought it would have been comical if not for his current unease with mail. 

The closer the letter came, the more nervous the boy grew. Soon Hadrian began to take a step back with each hop the owl took. Growing frustrated, the bird began to hop quicker towards Hadrian. The increase in speed was too much for the owl's poor balance, and it toppled over.

"Just leave it there; I'll get it." It appeared the owl understood; for once it got up it dropped the letter. Angry yellow eyes locked on the wizard, and the white-feathered body stood rooted to the ground. Hadrian guessed it was waiting for a complete delivery. A clumsy and dedicated owl.

The boy observed the letter for a long moment. He carefully reached out to it with his magic. Hadrian couldn’t feel any kind of curse, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t any. Pulling out his wand, Hadrian cast the few detection spells he knew. Nothing. And still Hadrian wasn’t confident enough with his meager detection skills. Were portkeys even detectable?

The boy paid no attention to the impatient hooting of the owl as he tentatively poked the letter with his wand. No noticeable difference. Hadrian poked it a couple more times for good measure. With the wand tip, he flipped the envelope over. 

The Black emblem sealed the envelope. Alphard? Hadrian slowly took the letter into his hands and opened it.

_Dear Hadrian,_

_Your invited to my birthday ball; taking place noon tomorrow at Number Twelve  
Grimmauld Place. Do invite your father, I've been very eager to meet your family._

_Alphard_

_P.S. Send your reply with King. Also, if you do not have any proper ball attire, I have dress robes I would like you to see you wear._

How unexpected. Hadrian had never been invited to a ball. Should he go? The boy found himself dreading the idea. How were you supposed to act at one of those? Would more snobs like Malfoy be there? 

Invite Morfin to high society birthday ball? What a ludicrous idea! Though, it could prove to be entertaining. 

He should go, it would be the only appropriate thing to do, giving how much Alphard had helped him in the past. It was his birthday…

The boy trudged back inside, owl following, and wrote a reply accepting the invitation. King had decided Hadrian had wasted too much of his time; pecking at the boy when his fingers paused in their writing. The bird lost his balance once again as it held its leg out for Hadrian. With a chuckle at the bird's expense, Hadrian sent off the letter.

One more letter to send.


End file.
